


Mittens

by Exdraghunt



Series: Wings and Tails [1]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Christmas Party, Gen, Robbie gets presents, Sportacus is a ray of sunshine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exdraghunt/pseuds/Exdraghunt
Summary: When Robbie Rotten received a phone call inviting him to the annual Lazytown Christmas party, he assumed that it was just another mistake courtesy of an over-enthusiastic Miss Busybody. He certainly wasn’t planning to go, not to some noisy party full of screaming children and a certain far-too-energetic pain-in-the-ass elf.





	

When Robbie Rotten received a phone call inviting him to the annual Lazytown Christmas party, he assumed that it was just another mistake courtesy of an over-enthusiastic Miss Busybody. He certainly wasn’t planning to go, not to some noisy party full of screaming children and a certain far-too-energetic pain-in-the-ass elf. 

However. . . It couldn’t hurt to sit and watch the party prep through one of his periscopes. Just to reassure himself just how not-fun the stupid party would be. The town’s precious Sporta-kook had probably convinced them to replace all the wonderful candy and sweets of the holiday with something, urk, healthy instead. No, there was no reason for Robbie to go at all. Really. 

But. The man did feel his conviction waver when he saw a huge platter of Christmas cookies being carried into the town hall. And then, the jugs of egg nog. Ooh, egg nog. Such a sweet treat, perfect to warm up on a cold winter’s day. Robbie shivered unconsciously, rubbing his hands briskly together. Though he had done his best to insulate his lair, the cold and damp always managed to wind its way in. Idly, Robbie stood and wandered over towards his kitchen to dig out a pot and some hot cocoa mix. 

In typical fashion, the town villain just couldn’t get a break. He was out of hot chocolate. How had he let himself run out? An image suddenly came to mind, of himself the night before with an enormous tankard of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream cradled in his hands to keep his fingers warm. Oh yeah, that’s how. 

Reluctantly, Robbie slunk out of his lair and crawled up the pipe to the surface. It couldn’t hurt to just. Drop by the town party, after all. If any of the kids kicked up a protest, well, he had been invited. Even if by mistake. He could go in, get some egg nog and hot cocoa and candy canes, and might even be able to get out again before that damn elf noticed he was there. 

His resolve wavered again as he stood outside the town hall, shivering a little in the snow as he listened to cheery Christmas tunes filling the warm space inside. Everyone was talking and laughing, and it was reminding him of how much he disliked crowds and noise. The sound was an assault on his ears, overlapping conversation and voices and music overwhelming his thought processes and making it hard to concentrate. 

Through the windows, though, he could also see the spread of food. Yes, there were stupid fruits and vegetables here and there. A big bowl of oranges, celery sticks in peanut butter, the kind of healthy treats the “town hero” kept trying to force on everyone. But there were also Christmas cookies in the shapes of little trees, bowls of candy canes in a variety of flavors, stacks of fudge, and, Robbie felt his mouth water, frosted sugar cookies. 

Giving into hunger and his irresistible sweet tooth, Robbie pushed open the door to the town hall and crept inside. Everyone turned to see who it was, the adults giving him a brief wave while the kids favored him with suspicious looks, but nobody yelled “ROBBIE ROTTEN!” and tried to kick him out. 

Deciding he was probably safe, Robbie made a beeline for the food table and started loading up a plate. He really should’ve brought a container of some kind of from home, better to take his spoils back with him, but a few plates would have to do. And a very big mug of egg nog. A shame it was the non-alcoholic kind, but he supposed the adults probably hadn’t wanted to risk it with so many children around. 

Popping a sugar cookie in his mouth and chasing it down with a swig of egg nog, Robbie nearly choked when a far too familiar cheery voice spoke up directly behind him. 

“Robbie! I’m so glad you came!”

Sputtering, Robbie whipped around to see none other than Sportacus standing much too close to him with a sappy smile on his face. The elf was clad in his normal outfit, a scarf the only concession for the season. Was he just immune to the frigid temperatures outside, or did he seriously only own one outfit?

“I made extra sure that you got an invitation, but I wasn’t sure you would come.” Sportacus grinned, peeling an orange and popping a slice in his mouth. “Look, apparently, these little oranges are a traditional Christmas snack. Isn’t it great?”

Robbie’s brain experienced a brief malfunction. He had assumed the invitation was just a mis-dial, like most of the calls he got about town events, but it had been on purpose. More than that, but –Sportacus- had been the one to make sure he came? He was the villain. The hero wasn’t supposed to. . . invite him to things. 

“Yeah. .. well. Some of us aren’t sports-nuts and eat sensible holiday snacks.” Robbie waved a candy cane idly, recovering his composure. “Surprised you even let this stuff in through the door, I thought you hated seeing the brats eat all this sugar.”

“Candy every day isn’t good, but it doesn’t hurt to have it on special occasions.” Sportacus himself couldn’t have it, of course, but it was nice to see the kids happy. “Besides, you wouldn’t have come if there weren’t sweets.”

Once again, Robbie’s heart did a funny little flop. Had the blue elf really been thinking about him when putting this together? No, Sportacus was probably just being his usual happy-dappy self spreading love and good cheer. Disgusting. “I ran out of chocolate and got hungry, nothing special. I just happened to walk by this. . . party.” He forced himself to put as much disdain into that word as he could muster. 

“Yes, well. I’m still happy you came in.” The look on Sportacus’s face said he didn’t believe that for a second, but wasn’t about to try and contradict the other man. “Otherwise, I would have had to track you down to give you this.” 

Robbie was forced to set down his plate and cup to accept the small, wrapped present that Sportacus held out to him. It wasn’t heavy, no suspicious rattle or ticking when he gave it a quick shake, but still Robbie was cautious as he pried open the lid. The town hero had never shown aptitude for serious trickery or deception before, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t some sort of elaborate trap. 

Inside the box, though, he found nothing more than a simple pair of purple mittens. Robbie picked them up, examining the gloves critically. They were made of a soft fleece, very plain, and looked to be made by an amateur. The stitching was sloppy and crooked in places, and the seams weren’t entirely straight. Just as Robbie was about to say something scathing, he looked down and noticed a band-aid on Sportacus’s index finger. The elf’s other fingers were also suspiciously red and pin-pricked. Whatever Robbie was going to say was lost, instead he was just confused. “Did- did you make these?”

Sportacus’s cheeks tinted the slightest pink, and he scuffed a foot on the floor. “I had Stephanie show me how to sew. I wasn’t sure what you would want, with all your gadgets and inventions, but you always seem cold this time of year. I could’ve bought something, but making gifts for my friends always feels better.”

There was the faint sound of gears grinding to a halt from Robbie’s brain. Sportacus, the flippy floppy blue elf who couldn’t even –walk- for two steps without doing some athletic feat, had sat down and hand sewn something? For him? Because he considered him, Robbie Rotten, a friend?

Robbie ignored the way his hand shook a little as he lifted the mittens from the tissue paper in the box and slipped them on. Despite their slightly shoddy construction, they fit well and were quite warm. Robbie coughed awkwardly. “They’re alright, I guess. Uh, thanks.”

Sportacus beamed, the tips of his moustache twitching happily. “I’m so glad you like them. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. The kids all got together to bake you a cake, they’ll be so disappointed if you don’t have some.”

At the sound of the magical word, Robbie perked up. “Cake?”

“They’ll bring it out after the present exchange. I know I gave you yours a little early but-” Sportacus suddenly turned when he heard his name called from the other side of the room. “Oh dear, looks like I’m needed. I hope you stay for the rest of the party.”

And with that, the blue elf was backflipping away to the kids who were clamoring for his attention. Robbie sighed and removed the gloves, sticking them into a pocket before returning to his tray of sweets. It would be a shame to let a cake go to waste, even if it meant hanging about the party for a while longer. 

Tucking himself into a corner, Robbie settled in to snack and watch the rest of the town enjoy themselves. The occasional person drifted his way, making light conversation before leaving again. It was a bit annoying, but Robbie begrudgingly appreciated the attempt to make him feel like part of the party. One of the kids came over as well; the tech-obsessed one with all the gadgets, and the two had a brief but not entirely unpleasant discussion about some of the latest innovations in the inventing world. Robbie might dislike children on general principal, but at least this one could tell a brilliant mechanical creation when he saw one. 

Robbie was about to give up and leave, cake or no cake, when the Mayor announced it was present time and everyone gathered around the tree at the center of the room. The kids were set to being “Santa,” plucking brightly colored boxes from under the tree and dutifully delivering them to the person whose name was on the package. (The only issue was when one present had to be prized from Stingy, who was loathe to give it up to its rightful recipient). Apparently, there had been some kind of secret gift exchange, each person in town getting the name of another to anonymously create a gift for. It was of little surprise to Robbie that he had not been assigned someone, nor had anyone been given his name, apparently. No matter, he’d already received far more than he expected from this little party. 

Once the presents were all opened, and sufficient excitement had been shown over the contents of the gifts, the kids suddenly all ran off to another room to fetch the cake they had baked earlier. Well, all except the bright pink one. No, instead of going off with her friends, she came over to Robbie holding something behind her back. The older man raised an eyebrow skeptically as she approached, though his attempted sneer was ruined somewhat by the hot chocolate moustache he had yet to notice. “Yes? What do you want?”

“I know Sportacus already gave you something but. I wanted to give you a present too.” Stephanie thrust out a lumpily wrapped gift, rocking on her heels nervously. 

Two presents in one night? Would the wonders never cease. Robbie gingerly took the gift and ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a purple fleece hat to match the gloves he’d gotten earlier. The stitching was slightly better done, but still clearly put together by an amateur hand. 

“I made it while teaching Sportacus.” Stephanie fidgeted. “I hope it fits.”

Robbie toyed with tossing the hat aside, but after a moment caved in to the little girl’s pleading face and pulled it on over his head. He’d just have to re-comb his quiff later. The hat did, indeed, fit, once he rolled up the hem so it didn’t fall over his eyes. It was even warm. “It’s great. Thanks, uh. Pinkie.”

“Stephanie.” The girl corrected, a smile coming over her face as she realized that Robbie wasn’t about to play into some evil scheme. 

“Whatever.” Robbie made a little shooing motion, sending her back off to her friends. Who were carrying a fairly impressive cake in festive holiday green and red out into the main room. Despite himself, Robbie felt his mouth water. Maybe there was something to this whole Christmas Spirit stuff. 

 

Though Robbie hadn’t managed to get his hands on the –entire- cake, as he had wanted, he had at least been served a fairly generous slice. Feeling somewhat satisfied, and rather exhausted from all the socializing, he decided to leave the rest of the town to their party and slipped out of the hall to head back to his bunker . Which was just as cold and damp as it had been when he left it, but at least now he had hat and gloves to fend off the chill. 

Looking down at the gloves on his hands, at the rough and uneven stitching, Robbie imagined Sportacus sitting hunched over the pieces of fabric, painstakingly pushing a little needle in and out of the project. It must have taken every ounce of self- control he had to sit still long enough to complete something like this. Sewing wasn’t exactly an athletic sport. Somehow, that made Robbie feel even warmer. 

As he curled up on his furry recliner, rubbing his cheek against the soft shag, Robbie had another thought. That he’d gotten gifts, but hadn’t given anything in turn. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered Robbie at all, but some part of him felt. . . uneasy. Like he owed them. And he hated to be in debt to others. 

 

That night, and into the next day, Robbie ended up sitting and thinking about things instead of getting a nice sleep like he’d planned. His thoughts chased each other around his head, ideas and concepts drawing themselves out before being discarded. What on earth would be an adequate gift?

Of course, Sporta-sap would probably get all smiley and teary-eyed at the prospect of any gift, no matter how big or small. But Robbie Rotten did not do things by halves. Nor did he allow any project of his to be less than perfect. 

Thinking back to the party, Robbie remembered how out of place Sportacus had looked in his short-sleeved shirt and vest, when everyone else was bundled securely against the cold of the season. The idiot elf. He’d go and make warm clothes for others, but still go out in an outfit any normal person would freeze in. 

With an idea firmly in his head, Robbie went into creation mode. Fabric was located, his sewing machine fished out from under a pile of machinery, and pattern paper spread out across the floor. He didn’t have measurements, and rarely made things for anyone but himself, but Sportacus always wore such skin-tight clothing that it wasn’t too hard to make an educated guess as Robbie altered a pattern he had on the fly. Scissors flashed as he deftly sliced through the fabric and began to pin his creation together. 

Another night of no sleep, and Robbie was finally done. A square package in blue, with a smaller one next to it in pink, sat side-by-side on his work bench. Exhausted, the man passed out for a few hours in his recliner. This time, he slept soundly and without dreams. 

Lazy Town was quiet and still early Christmas morning. The sun hadn’t properly risen yet, and families were only beginning to stir. Normally, it would’ve been far too early for Robbie, but he’d conked out sometime around noon the previous day after two sleepless days of frantic work and consequently woke up around four am. Fourteen hours sleep was sufficient even for the self-proclaimed “laziest man in Lazy Town” and Robbie had been left with little choice but to pace in his lair and wait until a more reasonable hour to venture out. Even the crazy elf didn’t get up that early. 

It was fairly easy to slip into Mayor Meanswell’s house and sneak an extra gift, addressed obstinately to “Pinkie,” under the tree amongst the other presents. He was being uncharacteristically charitable just making something for the brat, he didn’t need to hang around to be gushed over about it. 

More difficult would be getting the other present up to the town hero. Sportacus didn’t exactly have a house to break into, no. He had that dumb airship, and for all his talents, Robbie couldn’t fly. Perhaps he could put himself in danger somehow, then surely a beeping crystal would bring the hero down. Robbie didn’t exactly relish the idea of taking the chance, though. Just his luck, today would be the one day the magical artifact malfunctioned and he ended up with a broken leg or something equally idiotic. 

Then, Robbie’s eyes lit on the mailbox that stood serenely in the middle of town. Of course. That’s how the kids always contacted him. They wrote letters. Robbie fished about in his pockets, producing a scrap of paper and a pencil, and scribbled a “Get down here” before stuffing the paper in the provided tube and firing it off. 

He didn’t have long to wait, a rope ladder dropping out of the sky only a few minutes later to deposit a blue-clad elf on the snowy ground. Sportacus glanced around in mild confusion, clearly having expected a scene slightly more dramatic than the quiet, snowy town square, before looking to Robbie and raising an eyebrow. The other man had never summoned him via mailbox before, and certainly not on Christmas day. “Hello, Robbie. What can I do for you?”

Instead of responding, Robbie just picked up the blue-wrapped box at his feet and held it out. “Here.”

Sportacus looked between the gift and Robbie with surprise, taking it and ripping off the wrapping paper with more delicacy than he’d probably afforded anything in his life. Setting the paper and box aside, the elf unfolded the bundle of fabric inside and gasped. It was a winter coat, a lovely shade of blue with white fur trim and shining embroidered snowflakes dancing across it. Sportacus slipped it on and did up the buttons, finding that it fit him perfectly. Too perfectly to just be something mass-produced. “Robbie. . .”

The villain coughed. “It was just something I had lying around. I hate wearing that color, figured you could use it. Dense as these people may be, somebody will figure out you aren’t human if you keep stomping around in short sleeves in the snow.”

Sportacus knew that this wasn’t just some outfit Robbie had dug out of his storage. The two men were too different in shape for anything intended for the taller, thinner man to fit Sportacus. He knew trying to push the issue would only result in Robbie clamming up, however. Best to let the “villain” keep up this thin pretense if it made him feel better. 

“It’s beautiful.” Sportacus complimented instead. He didn’t need the warmth the coat provided, but greatly appreciated the gesture. Anything hand-made by a friend was something to be cherished. Stepping forward, the elf clasped Robbie’s hands with his own (and was greatly pleased to see that the mittens he’d made were being put to good use) before offering him a winning smile. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“What- I-“ Truth be told, Robbie didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day. To him, Christmas Day was no different from any other. He’d only even left his lair to give the elf his present, and then had fully intended to creep back home and watch television from the comfort of his armchair. 

“I do not have anyone to spend Christmas with.” Sportacus explained. Though he had been invited by several of the children, he didn’t want to intrude on families celebrating their holidays. “Come on. Why don’t we get something warm to drink and look at the lights? No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Though Robbie had always been alone on Christmas before, he found himself unable to put up even a token protest as he was led away. Even he had to admit: It was nice to have someone else there. Just for one day.

**Author's Note:**

> The next day, Robbie finds himself on the receiving end of a Stephanie hug as she thanks him for her new, pink winter gloves, and after that. Well, maybe the villain's attempts to run Sportacus out of town weren't quite as vehement as before.


End file.
